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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565070">This Monster who doesn’t know how to communicate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgalmexa/pseuds/vampgalmexa'>vampgalmexa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Frankenstan, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Frankenstein, Mullet Stan Pines, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Stangst, Suicidal Thoughts, my first fanfic in english, sorry English is not my mother tongue but I’m trying my best</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:07:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgalmexa/pseuds/vampgalmexa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Stan never came to Gravity Falls and Ford had to find him instead? But...not the kind of reunion he expected...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ford Pines &amp; Stan Pines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. If I die young</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"If I die young bury me in satin.<br/>Lay me down on a bed of roses<br/>Sink me in the river at dawn<br/>Send me away with the words of a love song<br/>The sharp knife of a short life,<br/>Well I've had just enough time..."<br/>If I die young- The Band Perry</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Natural selection, that's what his father used to say. A suicidal was to him the equivalent of a defector to their country, human waste, of course it was natural selection, if they didn't want to be alive, why still? Break up the chains of cowardice, do something, for the first time good in their lives, in everybody's lives. Move on, end up, let them kill themselves. </p><p>Cruel words made echo in his head, is that what he needed? What is the worthiness of a living dead? The same of a corpse, null, nothing, only take space on earth in both cases, that's how he saw it, he didn't had a cure, there was no salvation for his rotten being, not literally, but that wasn't important, he will be, He saw his tired hazelnut eyes on the rearview mirror, it wasn't supposed they had to have that spark? That life a young adult had to have, suffocated, that flame is death, it died when he passed through things that no one should live since he was seventeen, things that shouldn't exist in first place. say that if you end your own life you get in hell, but, wasn't he already in? Was there any difference? He stopped watching the mirror to rummage through the pockets of that old jacket to get that pocket gun of his, in its place, his hand accidentally got out a note, a type of folded cardboard, when he finally could touch the cold steel of his weapon.</p><p>His eyes now confused, traveled to that piece provenient of his clothing, now laying in his thigh, he took it delicately releasing momentanelly his gun. He unfold it as it were the answer of a medical checkup as he remembered previously what it was.</p><p>“Gravity Falls” glimpsed the postcard, his face drawed a sad little smile, the dark sky outside was crying as it knew his intention beforehand, the raindrops slidedown the car windows, the car, only witness and confident of Stans secrets, the raindrops glided as trying to comfort his soul, as a kind of soft and superficial caress from his loyal partner through all this years, as that machine of metallic heart begged him subliminally reconsider, as begging him not to do it.</p><p>The stars deformed by the water on the windshield looked at him as waiting for a reaction, as a shining spectators that just watched him on waiting to a kind of conclusion to the footage of his life.</p><p>So, he closed his eyes, wiped away his tears with that worn sleeve of his jacket to sigh. He will die as a coward, with his eyes closed, that way, not even dead could see the eyes that would recognize his empty shell that once where a person, as if he could. Decided now, he opened up his jacket exposing his chest dressed under a thin fabric shirt, at the point that when he placed the canon on his heart he felt the cold of the metal pass to the skin of his chest. His hands were trembling but never got away from that firm point on his breastbone. He closed his eyes again.</p><p>“I'm sorry baby” he talked to his car, his voice broke at the goodbye to his old friend, to that machine that was the only thing left to him in this world, he also hoped for the best to it in a world without him.</p><p>The only thing that he visualized now with his eyes closed was the postcard and a vague picture of his brother in the newspapers he saw a few years ago.</p><p>“I'm sorry Sixer” Regretfully, an undescriptable fear paired with his remorse, his phalanges caressed the trigger slowly pulling it as if someone was going to stop him in some supernatural way.<br/>
Would someone remember him?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you like it!!!!</p><p>If I die young- The Band Perry</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sign of the times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Just stop your crying, it's a sign of the times<br/>Welcome to the final show<br/>Hope you're wearing your best clothes<br/>You can't bribe the door on your way to the sky<br/>You look pretty good down here<br/>But you ain't really good..."<br/>Sign of the times- Harry Styles</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What an answer!</p><p>Furious wasn't the right word, of course, Stanford was pissed, but the feeling was diluted by despair, angust, how lucky he was. He didn't have time for this, goddammit Stanley, what mess have you gotten into this time? why now?</p><p>His stomach was heavy and his chest narrow, how could he face up the situation? to him, all the business of talking with the authorities was a whole unknown world, the thing by itself gave him anxiety turning him into that shy and naive boy that he incarnated a long time ago.</p><p>The officer called from a few states of distance, he mentioned something about his number as the only hint they found, that was impossible to identify his brother by what it seem a great amount of fake IDs, he could has caught more facts if he weren't fatigued for not sleeping for what it seemed centuries. He would regret that. What the hell?</p><p>Why didn't they ask his brother directly? Stanford just justified to himself, if Stanley was the same Stanley from a decade ago, the bullheaded teen, the stubborn being capable of actually giving hell to someone if he wanted to, obviously he wouldn't say a thing. He grumbled bitterly, all the issue dragged him back to that time of yore, shadow of the past where his twin messed something up and he was the one to face up because his brother was like a timed bomb. None of this was good. Bill had cheated him into condening the humankind disguised as an uninterested cause. His muse has turned to be his executioner. An imminent danger.</p><p>He felt stupid, he analyzed one and other again all the facts that clearly were always clues since the beginning. It repugned him, his autopercepcion of how his pride again made him stumble. Old mistakes, old wounds opened up.</p><p>No, Stanley ruined his own life.</p><p>Why did he thought that? what has it to do with this right now? he couldn't help it, it was pathetic, but...why did he feel guilty? No it was Stanley's fault but… There was always a “but”,a dubt, a possibility.</p><p>Maybe, maybe…</p><p>Maybe he shouldn't had been so hard on him, maybe it was the age, maybe Stanley was telling the truth, maybe it all was an accident.</p><p>Maybe HE was the one wrong, Maybe HE ruined Stanley's life.</p><p>No, it could be, no, screw this, he wasn't going to feel sorry for, first of all, old issues and that weren't his business.</p><p>A warmth spread in him like ink on a sheet of paper, from his chest to his cheeks. Newly he felt himself anger. He had to end this, the fastest, the better.</p><p>The fastest he went for Stanley, the fastest he will go out of his life, and not only Stanley. The fastest Stanley left his life, the fastest the goddamn journal will too.</p><p>With that, Stanford Pines would get rid of his two great mistakes, that two great chains around his wrists that humanize him, something Stanford couldn't afford, so he would do the same thing he did from the beginning, the infalible, bury it in the bottom of his being and deny their once existence.</p><p>In all this dark panorama, for his luck, there was a little light. Fiddleford seemed to get better after the mishap with the portal, the remorse was left aside the moment when the skinny man showed up at his door with mere concern for him. Both of them didn't hear anything from each other so this turned into a little consolation, finding each other relatively "fine".</p><p>Fiddleford didn't took long to find out about all of this, unfortunately for the chestnut haired, no only that. Now he was disconcerted and...mad at him? Ford assumed at the start that his attitude was carried because of the portal. Oh Ford, you're really bad at the social realt.</p><p>Fiddleford was disposed to take him in his car to that far station, nevertheless, of course, thanks for some experience, Ford knew now that nothing is really free.the small print was an explanation about that mysterious doppelganger that he has never mentioned in all these years.</p><p>About the trip, on normal circumstances, the landscape would had been without doubt pleasurable, however, Fords mind couldn't be limited to the four walls of that vehicle, rambled in circles as a caged lion, jitters, anxiety, a sensation that he could only compare with a punch in the gut.</p><p>He was a knot of emotions, there was too much that he even considered taking a break from his crazed lifestyle when all of this ended, and this was too much to say coming from the young scientist. Ten years, ten years went since the last time they eyed each other, repeated to himself, since their "goodbye" without actually saying goodbye, since his brother left through that door to never come back, better said, was thrown out through that door.</p><p>He was afraid of what was coming, this wasn't exactly the reencounter he expected. He was lying, actually, said thing had never crossed his mind, but definitely it shouldn't be like this, he didn't even knew how himself would react.</p><p>How he was supposed to know how Stanley would react?</p><p>He abandoned his thoughts when he realized two orbs were piercing him, worried blue eyes looked at him as trying to look through him.</p><p>It has been a tough discussion that died in a deathly silence, not even the radio was on and now both of them were too uncomfortable to turn it on now.</p><p>The hoary one was still observing the contrary as trying to find a way to read his mind, Ford just turned to the window hiding his face with the excuse of appreciate the landscape that was fading from a snow paradise to one more urban looking, that traveled from a white to a gray comform they follow the asphalt road, as the same way the blue on the firmament set down to jet black.</p><p>The stars, public in suspense, eyes of the universe, mude witnesses, cruel expectators that keep all their knowledge of the immensity of the galaxy to themselves, maybe that was the reason Ford loved that celestial objects, for conserving so many mysteries to themselves, for their selfishness.</p><p>How could he keep about Stanley from Fidds all this time? He was his best friend, his ONLY friend, he deserved the truth.</p><p>Same as his friend, the attitude of the blond one had suffered ups and downs all the journey, from an accusatory one that firmly demanded answers to a compasive one, when the hazelnut eyes looked up to encounter to the older eyes when he finally concluded the story telling, he could catch pity notes behind those glasses.</p><p>The trip seemed almost everlasting, but it ended, Ford hadn't even realized when it did, he was so bottled inside his mind observing the ice garlands in the trees for a moment and the next one it was already dark, the car was parked in front the police station.</p><p>"Well, we're here Stanferd", announced the silver sideburns one when he notice that his friend barely knew where were them.</p><p>The younger nodded vaguely in agreement, adjusted his glasses sliding into the reality again, he opened the door just to receive a cold wind hit his face that more than a harm, it actually helped him to vindicate himself in place his feet on the ground.</p><p>Goddammit Stanley.</p><p>Resurged from inside, followed by complains.He could do this all day, rewind.</p><p>TEN FUCKING YEARS and he had to still being the squire of his brother?</p><p>He had believed, in a tiny hope that Stanley had matured; that he was now capable of handling his own conflicts by himself, but NO, he had always to bring him down too. Old grudges, raw feelings appeared the moment the white light of the place illuminated both of them when they trespassed that door, they headed to the reception with the taller one behind him that was watching him as if something was growing on his back.</p><p>In the reception,a type of wood bar of an insipid color. An officer that was absorbed in his job, finally looked up just to pale, petrified, as if he had seen a ghost.</p><p>This didn't go unnoticed by Fiddleford who now could feel his entrails knot, something wasn't right, but he kept his secret horror to himself.</p><p>Ford, on the other hand, at seeing this fellow freezed didn't appreciate the same as his companion, silence just made him lose his patience, the clock was ticking, a cursed tik tok. When he didn't watch a reaction of the corpulent man behind the desk, he decided to break the silence.</p><p>"Stanford Pines, you called..."</p><p>He wasn't actually going to end the sentence, he just only wanted to wake up that guy.</p><p>"Ah, ehm...yes...G-God, this way", stuttered the ginger uniformed man now standing up causing a mess around him with his awkward movements, from emptying his cup of coffee on all his desk papers to almost tripping over with his chair.</p><p>The defensive posture of Stanford was now blur.</p><p>When the gigantic man could finally leave the desk without die trying, he made a sign that that only traduced to them as a follow him, or at least, that's what they thought, when Fiddleford walked behind his friend he was suddenly stopped.</p><p>"eh, sir, I, I-I afraid that you have to wait here", exclaimed with trembling voice the man as signaling a electric blue plastic chairs that he could occupy, Fords scowl evolved into a confused sight, he glimpsed fleetingly to the uncomfortable policeman to turn to his friend again, who shyly nodded and headed to the chairs.</p><p>That was the moment when Stanford's heart fell hard to the bottom of his stomach.</p><p>Oh God, Stanley, what did you do now?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoy it!!! read you later!!! Los amo, cuidense ✨✨✨</p><p>Song:<br/>Sign of the times- Harry Stiles</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. When the party's over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Don't you know I'm no good for you?<br/>I've learned to lose you, can't afford to<br/>Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin'<br/>But nothin' ever stops you leavin'<br/>Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own<br/>I could lie, say I like it like that..."<br/>When the party's over- Billie Eilish</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly all turned to a gelid gray tone, not literally, but the brown-eyed could almost see it, he could percibe the cold through his bones or was the cold sweat in his hands?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The venom of the truth has poisoned him since the moment they passed by the interrogation room, the sensation was of a non existing icy-tipped scalpel caressing his spine, now he wished he had that mythic gift that was popularly attributed to twins of feeling the same things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He suspected what was coming, just, he didn't want to know, desperately searching for a way of blocking that thought he seemed as a bad omen magnet, as if doing that, magically would deform reality to his convenience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The susceptible man of great complexion hasn't spoken with his thick deep voice again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence, isn't that the sound of disgrace?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thorny creeper of realization rolled around his neck without allowing him to breath. He was in fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A growing fear, suffocating, it was ice cracking under his feet, this horror was greatest to the one the multidimensional demon had colmed him. It was impossible, what could he fear more?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really didn't want to know the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The frigid weather stabbed him like needles in all his body, it only seemed to increase at the moment they made it to the doors of a cage-looking ascensor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanfors wished he could travel to the past, to the moment he had received that call at past midnight, he wanted to know what he missed, he wanted to point out what had escaped his attention that night and how he could disregard all of this. He wished more than ever to travel through time to avert whatever had happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Avert Stanley went through that door that old day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The characteristic ascensor sound rumble bringing Ford to the here and now, the sound actually wasn't a big deal but for the polydactyl it was deafening that startled him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"After you", said the uncomfortable ginger, so Ford got inside the metallic cubicle that had previously been opened by the policeman at the sound of hellish grinding of metal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Officer...Adams, as Ford read, got in before pressing whatever button (at this point the young scientist just wanted to get to his brother) and closed that grill with such strength that the elevator shook slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hazelnut eyes traveled watching the rusty grill as it was the most fascinating thing in the universe, as an excuse, useless trying to keep his mind blank, he didn't wanted to think at all, as he was pretending to be an automatic machine, but as much he struggled, the idea didn't pay off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brain was betraying him, like a double edged sword, a gift and a curse, well, it seemed like he couldn't even trust himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a single question drilling in his skull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was it, he didn't even wanted to specify it to himself, he even felt it like sensacionalist, thing that was making him sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, it can't be, of course, what the hell? this is not happening, of course it's not, this has to be sort of revenge from Bill, t</span>
  <span>hat's right, a lucid dream, this isn't real, Bill mustd rummaged through his memories.</span>
  <span>He has to wake up, now. None of this is real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He compulsively looked around him searching for a mistake or a clue that could confirm his hypothesis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He observed the robust from up to down like scanning him, his sight was captured in one wrist of that man, a shiny metal stood out to the weak light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A clock, perfect. On first instance insignificant, but in the world of the human psique, in dreams it was an important key.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the human succumbs to Morpheus' arms, the fantasies that the brain produces can be so vivid to the point of infecting with doubt his being at the awakening, nonetheless, the realism wasn't infallible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All was matter of little details as books or clocks; about the books, in dreams, it make no odds how much you leaf through one, things would be dizzy in most of it, the human brain cannot retain a memory of book neatly, and on the other side, clocks just kept frozen on determined hour, no flow of sands of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"sir, could you allow me your clock for a moment? please", asked the young polydactyl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question weirded out the fire-haired, it was odd for the context they were living at the moment but he nodded, maybe the poor unfortunate was trying to distract himself a little bit before the heartrending he was about to witness, everyone handles this type of situation differently after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adams stripped out the artifact to put it on the extended hand of the brown haired, not without checking twice amazed to believe his eyesight was tricking him, thinking he had miscounted appreciating Ford's anomaly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Ford noticed and wielded the clock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"you sight is alright, there are six, in both hands", Ford answered the nonexistent question now looking away to focus on the clock, his hands were trembling, his hand was still a fist around the device without letting him see the clock hands, God, he was praying he was right, that the needles were inert, that all of this were a twisted revenge of Bill, that Stanley would arrive at any moment to waking him banging at his door, calling out his name with that raspy voice he remember.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he unwielded his fist just to find out the second hand advancing furiously; his heart almost stopped, a shiver felt like sandpaper down his marrow, his breathing was getting out of reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The carmine hair watched him paled, quietly he offered his hand to the young man who deposited the clock, without looking at him, he was blank, he was shook, his head bowing down, lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That elevator seemed to take them to the center of the planet for the unbelievably slowness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally,it shrieked sharply as it claimed they were there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adams opened the cage, the noisy grill, indicating the trenchcoat one that he could get out, with a dead expresion, Ford stepped out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, No this...</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed it!!!!!✨✨✨</p><p>Song:<br/>When the party’s over- Billie Eilish</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Everything I wanted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"It might've been a nightmare<br/>To anyone who might care<br/>Thought I could fly <br/>So I stepped off the Golden, mm<br/>Nobody cried<br/>Nobody even noticed<br/>I saw them standing right there<br/>Kinda thought they might care..."<br/>Everything I wanted- Billie Eilish</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Livid, white, pale that seemed like shine with the intense light of the place, he was the same color of the blanket that covered him, the color of Death.</p><p>His eyes were closed under his hairy hazelnut brows that matched with his messy hair caressing his shoulders, gray eye bags, his apparently three-day-beard decorated his cheeks and chin, his lips were blue, the same blue of the sky recovering of a tempest on that beach he well remembered.</p><p>Drained, the greatest proof to Ford that there existed such a thing as the soul, his brother was not longest recognizable as a person, as a living being, he looked like an object, empty, lifeless. No, no, no, it's impossible,he did not assimilate it, No, no, he felt like in any moment Stanley would sit up, that he would open his caramel eyes to mock him for being so naive.</p><p>His sight clouded, a warmth extended from his clenched chest to his cheekbones.</p><p>No, it's just-no, this wasn't true, he will never,</p><p>Stanley couldn't-he would never- He'll be fine, he was supposed to be fine.</p><p>Ford was transported again to that day.</p><p>He had reconsidered but it was too late. This wasn't true, besides, most of Stanley's things were there, their father wouldn't let him to die with nothing, isn't it? He"ll be back later, when he had cooled down his head and learned his lesson. Just that, yeah, only that.</p><p>He'll be fine.</p><p>He couldn't sleep, his brother hadn't come back, where was he? It was late, he should be here now.</p><p>Where was the snore? That sound that irritated him so much was turning in a lullaby now, he never thought he needed it so much. Insomnia pierced his mind with horrible thoughts. What if Stanley needed him? His brain created disturbing scenes of his brother bleeding out in some alley, alone, dying as a stray cat, or crashing with some drunk driver that left him to die as ran away. It was an endless list of possibilities.</p><p>He didn't notice when he started crying, he suddenly sit up in his bed to wipe up his tears.</p><p>How could he dared to turn his back on him? Would that be the last thing his brother will see of him? That was the worst night of his life...was…</p><p>He left the house in a hurry leaving his parents with the words in their mouths. He walked nonstop, he went to every place he could, all the meeting points of the twins.</p><p>There was no sign, nothing pointing where the younger twin was, no one had seen him, he looked for him everywhere.</p><p>The sun grew at dawn. He was back at home, as in autopilot, he sideways saw his parents, both of them were talking to him but he couldn't hear them. His father was blaspheming his name, shouting, his face dark in rage, on the other side, his mother portrayed the most genuine and heartbroken face he had witnessed in his whole life, there was sharp truth in that, she was trying to suck up her tears as consoling the baby in her arms who was crying at all lung strength, she seemed to suffer in silence submissively as hiding from someone…</p><p>When he passed by them, to thei-his room, locking the door behind him. His legs faltered bringing him down to the ground in a trembling mass, his hand was over his mount drowning his sorrow, his sobs, his glasses were tarnish, his hot bright cheeks were highway of tears, sour sounds travelled from his chest.</p><p>He lost him, at the end it turned out to be true...the last time his brother saw him , the last thing he saw about him was his rejection, that curtains closing up.</p><p>He abandoned this world with the sensation of being a disappointment to his twin, being a dishonor to his family, without mending the things between them.</p><p>The destiny tore him out of his reach, was this a punishment for bringing all hell break loose in his dimension? Was this for his pride?If was there any divine justice in the heights, how was this justice? This was unfair, Stanley was innocent, he didn't deserved this, he didn't deserved him…</p><p>His thoughts suddenly darken again as an upcoming storm, a memory appeared, another hideous memory nailed his claws and he could feel it sit on his shoulders.</p><p>The small party had ended, some friends of his had bringed a cake to celebrate his birthday and, of course, beer.</p><p>Was there any way better to celebrate being an "adult" than that?</p><p>He had a good time, especially for the cake, than unlike the typical "happy birthday", it had "you're legal now, Nerd". All good but for the nature of his colleagues, were actually the first time most of them drinked and the others just hadn't a good tolerance to alcohol, by his side, Ford, since a kid, was raised by his father to take considerable doses "as a man".</p><p>So, as his friends crawled their way out his apartment saying incoherences, with clumsy steps taking with them the characteristic pestilence of the intoxicant beverage, Fiddleford was helping him clean up that mess.</p><p>The older one actually did not drink at all, he saw it as something unnecessary and unhealthy that wasn't matched with his lifestyle, he has confessed that to Stanford before.</p><p>When everything was partly in order, the birthday boy let himself slump tired on the couch, Fidds had already laid along the largest couch, his chest raising and falling serenely, Ford glanced at him realizing the other one was asleep. So fleetingly as he just sat down he stood to remove the glasses from his buddys face along with his shoes.</p><p>Old habits never really died, no matter the years, that was a simple one the twins used to have.</p><p>He returned to his seat, contemplative to the great nothing.</p><p>His brother, Stanley, it was his birthday too.</p><p>He was an adult too now.</p><p>How could he be so sure about that? How could he even know if Stanley was still wandering somewhere?</p><p>What ensured him his brother was now an adult and hadn't died years ago? He didn't even notice at what moment he had taken that beer and he couldn't care less.</p><p>His life was good, maybe he didn't went to the West Coast Tech but that didn't stopped him from getting to where he wanted, his world didn't ended in that science fair, actually, that just motivated him to get better.</p><p>Why did he had to open his mouth that day? He were raging, his dreams seemed distant at Stan's fault but, was it worth it? Got him kicked out...gived back the chance?</p><p>Shut up Stanford, he thinked now, he dissipated all that thoughts, he didn't needed them, were useless.</p><p>Mourn, Mourn, he had lived ten goddamn years mourning in his insides, that echoes didn't allowed him live plenty, would never let him being happy, this was as a vinegary wine, his victories tasted so sweet but at the end, the bitter memory was bring on ghostly to invade him.</p><p>Mourning will not bring Stan back to live, mourning wouldn't mend their relationship.</p><p>It was late.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you liked it!!!!</p><p> </p><p>Everything I wanted- Billie Eilish</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Before you go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"So, before you go<br/>Was there something I could've said to make your heart beat better?<br/>If only I'd have known you had a storm to weather<br/>So, before you go<br/>Was there something I could've said to make it all stop hurting?<br/>It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless<br/>So, before you go..."<br/>Before you go-Lewis Capaldi</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The arrangements were made, Fiddleford would drive his car and he would drive Stan`s, his brother's body would arrive at Gravity Falls in a few hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blond was staring at him speechless for all the situation, Ford was paper white, his eyebags were more notorious as  mirroring of the corpse he had seen moments ago,  had they returned the right twin?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pardon my twisted black humour, so acid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eyes of the youngest reflected all and nothing at the same time, his walking was automatic heading the outdoors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They barely crossed the threshold, his legs buckled, inevitable would have been his headlong falling on the steps if the tallest hadn't been there, he managed saving him holding his right arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breaking point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scene was heartrending,on the steps, there were sitting, a broken man who trembled and sobbed, his glasses foggy hiding his suffer, the red border in his eyes with the crystalline appearance highlighted the caramel color of his sight, that as a metaphor, was the reflect of his soul; On his side, there was another man, frozen, he didn't know if it was because of the weather or the sudden explosion of the contrary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never thought see him like this, he wished he had never witnessed this, Stanford, Stanford never left that building, part of his best friend died, he could see it, this suicide didnt kill one person, killed the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hazelnut haired saw clouds in front of the face of the elder one, only hears static, his chest was moving erratic it was like his lungs had shrunken, his throat burned until the pit of his stomach. Fiddleford didn't needed a word, years of research methodology backed him plus his innate skill of reading people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood up hurriedly and helped the trenchcoat one leaning him over his shoulders, practically carrying almost all the weight of the youngman in shock to guide him to a small place turf sheathed, totally blacked for the night, which the slight light from the entry couldn't reach, there Stanford empty the little content of his stomach, most of it was coffee…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hairy man didn't even wanted to imagine the level of stress he was going through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, are you okay?", asked in a voice barely hearable to the trenchcoat young man after straighten up again, he traced small circles on his back comforting him. Stanford just nodded speedly as autoconvince himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sapphire eyed posed his hand on the shoulder of the trembling man to turn him to him, facing how his friend seemed worse than ever, now he looked deadly sick but at least he had steady his breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is-it is my fault, isn't it?"speaked a faltering voice</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That question sat him as a bucket of icy water, leaving him without speak for seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"NO!", exclaimed Fiddleford all of a sudden, "Stenford Filbrick Pines, dontcha dare even think o` that, dont!" added after astonish the named</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"but-", whispered Ford feeling both of the taller` hands now on his shoulders, which slided turning into a tight hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No...", replied now in a quietly voice searching for pacify the opposite close to his ear, "Stanferd, I-just,I can barely take a hold o` myself, keep myself togetha, after the portal, Im alone, ma wife...Tate, they leaved me...you`re the only one I have left, please, dontcha take that away from me...I kno I'm bein` selfish for askin`ya this much, God, I wish I could take away all tha pain, I wish I could bring ya brotha back...", the skinny man didn't had any more left to say, he just wanted all of this to end, all the pain and suffering, that mysery that seemed endless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words of the blond made echo in his head, bouncing on the walls of his skull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was true, he had to be strong, for Fidds...but that wasn't the only thing resounding in his brain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stanford felt himself unworthy, he shouldn't even touch that car and now he was driving it, a shiver went down his spine as his skin bristed, his brother had taken his life there, in the same seat he was buckled, his last breath, his last thought, his last heartbeat had faded there. Even after it was washed in detail there was left a bloodstain and...the bullet hole as a ghost, the mere imagination of the polydactyl made him feel an echo of his brother shot in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it possible, in a way, envy a thing? That carmine machine had witnessed his brother life for ten years , and had taken his place he once had at Stanley`s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who could have thought that car would turn out to be more a family than him? That car wasn't a house but it was certainly a home to Stanley, a poor consolation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he wouldn't leave it like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanley wouldn't die like this, he was fighting himself, his logic was shouting that that didn't make any sense, that it was only sorrow intoxicating his brain, that he couldn't think straight and on the other side, his heart and instincts were whispering that he could fix this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not because egotism, none of that, there must be a chance, that if there was a possibility he had to take it, that he won't take on him the death of his brother, he was still self-flagellating, carving himself with regret he couldn't stand, he won't stay with the thought that he could do more for him, that he could prevent this in another life, that now he could save him...from himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Fiddleford, would he understand him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, no, no, of course no, he would refuse even the thought of that, he could convince him to help him...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he should not involve him, not again, he had done enough...</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you like it!!!!</p><p>Before you go- Lewis Capaldi</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Friend, please</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"I  feel for you but when did you believe you were alone?<br/>You say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves a home<br/>Where alliance once was<br/>Petrified of who you are and who you have become<br/>You will hide from everyone, denying you need someone<br/>To exterminate your bones<br/>Friend, please remove your hands from<br/>Over your eyes for me<br/>I know you want to leave but<br/>Friend, please don't take your life away from me..."<br/>Friend, please- Twenty One Pilots</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was supposed, Stanley's corpse should have arrived a week ago, nevertheless, Fiddleford hadn't heard a single word of his friend since that day, the last time he had seen him was when he had followed him in that car all the way to his house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanford promised to be in touch with him to decide how all the funeral business would went, of course, not only that, he wanted him to speak his mind, he was afraid of leaving him alone with his own thoughts after the breakdown he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though he started having nightmares about that, at first he feared that demoniatic triangle was involved, but in a way he figured out that not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, he was even more afraid with that factor, the dream demon, that yellow abomination that actually could manipulate his best friend, not only physically, the worst weapon on display was Stanford psychology, the last thing he knew about all the Bill`s issue was that he almost drove his friend insane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hypocrite, his thoughts didn't match his actions, the only thing he did was calling him multiple times to the shack, nothing more, not even checking on him personally once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for all that callings, Ford only raised the phone a couple times, Fiddleford didn't wanted to hear his best friend torning apart, but it was odd how he sounded on the other side of the line, he sounded busy, distant, avoiding the subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everytime the blond was trying to ask about his deceased brother, the man on the phone argued that he was busy or just hanged up with nothing more, same when he tried to talk him about move in again, Ford nervously excused himself and shove him out about his whatever he was doing leaving the elder bewildered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn't take anymore, no more, he had been a horrible friend for leaving Stanford on his own all this time for respecting Stanford's will of staying away, how could he do that? At first he thought he was doing the right thing by giving him some space or thinking that that was the way he was dealing with all of this. Bullshit, no one deserves to be alone, no in this situation, no ever, isolate with such great grief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He headed the shack, that fortress of wood that locked, as a ghost, the tormented soul of his best friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knocked at the door several times, receiving a null answer, at first instance that didn't surprise him at all, he was used at the times when Stanford used to lock himself in the basement with his experiments, where he wasn't capable of hearing when someone was at his door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his luck, he still had the replica keys that Stanford gave him after he broke a window to get in, he smiled slightly at the memory, short  that smile faded as he remembered the reason he was here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment he crossed the door he felt the ground move under his feet, the place was a mess, it looked worse than before, there were broken things, a lamp rested in pieces, there were papers everywhere,books; He walked in until he stepped on something, he hunked to take that rectangular thing, his feet ran into a book "Medical Physiology", this confused the thin man, his eyes traveled all the cover page of that fat book, his fingers caressed the pages noticing protuberances between them, bookmarkers, with curiosity of finding these type of books in the young scientist place, Stanford had never showed any interest in human anatomy, actually was he the one into that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He went through one of them, page 260, "Anatomy, Human heart is a organ certainly complex, which principal function consist into bomb blood through systemic circulation and pulmonary...", he didn't needed to read anymore, he threw the book away and hurried to the encounter with the polydactyl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanford have to stop doing this to himself, punish himself for his twin`s death, we all commit mistakes and Stanford was innocent of that, his mistakes was other that happened years ago, besides, Fiddleford although never met Stanley, he was sure Stanley had never wanted his brother to carry with all that guilt, All indicate that, in first place, he didn't even wanted his brother to find out about his suicide...practically, the police digged to find the clue that leaded to Stanford, under his seat, the postcard that later they used to track his number. The blond didn't thought he had it to be identified, no, he thought Stanley died with that piece of cardboard to say goodbye in some way, that it was in his hands originally but it fell...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now in the basement, he found a plenty of different things on Stanford's desk, it was a mess, upholstered of pictures of anatomy, notes, books and what it seems like a new journal, but it was different, not red like the others, it was shorter but thicker, black leather cover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it was a weapon, the blue eyed took it in his hands to look in what consisted of that mysterious notebook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"December 4rth, 1982</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today my brother's body arrived at Gravity Falls, I hadn't stopped, I had not lost any single minute, I can't afford that, I had been planning all of this since the journey back to the shack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I managed to install the shapeshifter`s cryogenizer, which I couldnt find anywhere around, I have to come back later to search for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I installed it beside the portal, I have been disassembled it to use parts to upgrade the cryogenizer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can't believe it myself I'm actually doing this, for Stanley, being that is totally the opposite of the plan I had for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don't know how could I even thought of that, isn't this what I wanted? Stanley out of my life again? now I can't stand it, why?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had finally improved the cryogenizer to conserve perfectly Stan, this time is liquid cryo based on nitrogen, he had not blood anymore, so I will put this antifreeze I formulated to force his organs working, for that I have to use a bomb as heart for now, as I get a real one..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiddleford stopped reading, he must've read wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...formulated to force his organs working, for that I have to use a bomb as a heart for now, as I get a real one..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed it abruptly frowning, with a furious step he went to the metallic door that led to the portal zone, he opened it whipping it making a hellish sound thanks for the echo the cave-like site had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a determined gaze scanned to the startled lump, Stanford, he was probably asleep moments ago, the instant he saw him he went to him, the hazelnut haired that was on the ground jumped on his feet, barely standing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His usual clothes of trench coat replaced by an apron filthed by God-knows-what, Fiddleford didn't wanted to know, messy hair and a short-grown beard, dead eyes, he looked worn out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A meter from him, the slim man stopped to throw the journal to the man in front of him, who barely managed to catch it in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"STANFERD, WHATA ACTUAL HELL IS GOIN` ON HERE?!"...</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you like it!!!!<br/>Friend, Please- Twenty One Pilots</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Lay Me Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Told me not to cry when you were gone<br/>But the feeling's overwhelming, it's much too strong<br/>Can I lay by your side?<br/>Next to you, you<br/>And make sure you're alright<br/>I'll take care of you<br/>I don't want to be here if I can't be with you tonight<br/>I'm reaching out to you<br/>Can you hear my call?<br/>This hurt that I've been through<br/>I'm missing you, missing you like crazy..."<br/>Lay Me Down- Sam Smith</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Fiddleford", answered with a faint voice at the beginning, "I couldn't leave him like that, not again, he's my brother, my twin, for God's sake", finished raising his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stanferd, listen to me, I kno` you're suffering, but ya gettin` into things ya can't control, the grief is blindin`ya"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know what do you mean, It's just, If I have a chance, the least chance, I have to take it, I have to, you wouldnt understand", interrumpted the youngest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stanferd, just listen to yourself! PROFANE YER BROTHER'S BODY! YOU'RE OVERPASSING THE LIMITS!! BREAKIN` OUR MORAL!", exclaimed now without saving any calm, this was overpassing him too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"THE FACT I'M TRYING SOMETHING DIFFERENT DOESNT MEAN ITS BAD!!!", replied a pissed hazelnut eyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"oh, yeah? well, maybe not for ya...", stated the elder lowering his voice as he looked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"what?", asked, now confused the pale man trying to catch his friend's gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I dunno, what about last time?", said Fiddleford with words filled with a memory, trauma and now looking at him with hurt in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crossing their sights, Ford realized, with a hit almost physical, that Stanley wasnt the only one he let down, he looked away with a great hole of hopelessness in his chest, he moved away to the machine that displayed his brother as a showcase, laid between all the liquid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence was sharp again, when the blond looked where he was going, he doubted but finally he followed him, now as he looked at the being that was practically a clone of his best friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"you know,...he never doubted me", broke the ice the twin, the other placed a hand over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stanferd, ya know I don` doubt ya , it's just, the thing between hands is greater than both of us and all we know".</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blue eyed gazed capturing all detail on the corpse attached to a metallic plank by belts inside that enormous test tube like machine, his hair floating gracefully at the rhythm of the liquid, on his white skin were hellish notorious the incisions of the autopsy, a great "Y" on his torso with a hole a little lower from the vertex, the bullet wound, surrounded for the tattoo of the gunpowder burn in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His skin was branded by scars, few burned dots, cigarettes, under his collarbone, most of the on his right side, an old bullet scar on his left shoulder, x-shaped scars on his arms, shoulders, large ones with the characteristic points of stitches on his chest and left side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was so skinny that he looked sick, not healthy slim like Fiddleford, he was almost skin and bones, so different from the chubby boy Stanford remembered with melancholy, denoting denutrition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taller tried so hard to look away, what type of thing had this young man been through?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked so fragile for a man of his constitution, he was supposed to look as healthy as Stanford, even healthier, is not like the other twin takes good care of himself too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought gave an overturn to Fiddlefords heart, no one deserved to be pushed to such limit of despair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If they bring him back to life, they'll give him a second chance too, isn't it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't only a chance for Stanford to emend all between them...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That's how little by little the idea of bringing him back to life was getting into his head like the humidity of a rainy day, silently, he didn't even realize when he started considerate it, easing the frown of his face and turning in some way more "logic" or "rational".</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll help you Stanferd..." was the verdict, "but, I want ya to understand and promise me somethin`", said the blond giving time for an answer to the haggard, which nodded now facing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"what we`re goin` to do don` have turn back, I mean, ya can't bring him back and abandon him like before, ya know what am I talkin` bout..."lastly said Fiddleford with a hurt expression for the words that left his mouth that although hurtful were sincere, but never losing firmness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanford felt the stab of those words, he flinched but said nothing about it because the truth in them, he just nodded and flipped to his brother again in a promise signal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The gun was a Smith &amp; Wesson, a small one, caliber 38, a pocket one then, the bullet must've been a 38 too", signaled the blond after reading the autopsy archive, he leave it behind and with gloved hands analyzed Stanley's back searching for the bullet exit, he found it a little lower than the entry, a hole slightly bigger than the other, with irregular shape but less burns than the front one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally finished, he made a sign to Ford to come to assist him turn him around cautiously on the metallic table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How do you know that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ford wasn't much a gun person, it was like a voluntary ignorance about all of that, he knew how to shoot for his father "lessons of manhood" he used to give to the twins as he did before with Shermie and all of that, but never really caught his interest as he expected never had to use that learnings. To sum it up, he only knew how to clean, reload and shoot guns, no more, not even the names and calibers straight, it was mostly visual recognition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brown eyed passed his twelve gloved phalanges along of the autopsy cuts, without any seemed reason, as he was only comforting Stanley to later posicing few of them over the surface with the shot, watching the dye on the dead pale skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"`bout the bullets? Oh, it's just, if it hadn' been a small caliber, Ima pretty sure that wouldve destroyed more than pierce out the heart, and the out wound would be monstrous even damagin` part of his spine, all o`that if it were the case o`an expansive bullet. Tha`s the theory in the folder", commented nervously the southern,"we`re lucky it didn`hosted in tha thoracic vertebrae, that could've turn the matter 180 an` we couldn` had done much about it", added for not saying that actually could had done nothing for the long haired man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now was Stanford who took the papers hearing the declaration of the elder, even if he had read them plenty of times at the point of almost memorizing every single word, he wanted the newly acquired info from his friend to fit with the previous knowledge as a puzzle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a nutshell, orifice of entry in the thorax, piercing the sternum, fracture on rib arches, myocardial perforation, section of the abdominal aorta, lung perforation and injuries from the shock wave of the shot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The course of the projectile had suffered a deviation as a consequence of the crash with bone structure, the bullet wasn't found but it was sure that it got out because of the exit wound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Stanford readed that leaded his right hand in the pocket of his dress pants to feel between his fingers the deformed piece of lead, it was like Stanley's car had saved it exclusively to give it to him...</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you like it!!!!</p><p>Lay me down- Sam Smith</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Fire on Fire Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Fire on fire would normally kill us<br/>But this much desire, together, we're winners<br/>They say that we're out of control and some say we're sinners<br/>But don't let them ruin our beautiful rhythms<br/>'Cause when you unfold me and tell me you love me<br/>And look in my eye<br/>You are perfection, my only direction<br/>It's fire on fire..."<br/>Fire on Fire- Sam Smith</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The scene involving there was disturbing for both of the men, surreal, something no one has ever really lived before, making history in some way but keeping it to themselves, no one would ever know except the two of them what really happened between those walls. Saying things is way too much easier than doing them. All of this changed forever their vision about humanity, how fragile life was, how they forget that, everyone, living like their own god of their reality, actually forgetting the world still spins around with or without them. Stanley knew that, his future to him seemed dark, not a way out of the tunnel. He acknowledged the world would still exist without him, but he make a mistake, because, even if the world was still out there, he had torn apart one reality, Ford`s world.</p><p>Reopen his brothers chest, with that with all that blood-freezing cracking sounds, get his hands inside taking that fissured heart in them, something that even in that Bill`s induced nightmares had never conceived, he was sick of his own being, he felt actually hatred to himself for doing this, he felt like he wasn't even himself, that he was a butcher that was tearing his brother apart. He knew why he was doing this but his brain couldn't completely accept it in some way, the incoherence of wanting to protect his brother from the world and being there tearing him apart, was killing him.</p><p>He could feel his own heart in his throat, beating strongly, he swore he could pass out there any moment at the gaze of dissecting his first best friend, he was trembling but holding most of it with the intention of not messing up the issue in hand, literally. Fiddleford was paled like a grim reaper as his hands were there too, feeling the still little frostbitten organs.</p><p>This was different from any other praxis he has witnessed before, and, of course, details here was...that they weren't actually doctors or any similar, but, what difference does it make? Victor Frankenstein was a med student...and wasn't real…</p><p>They had removed finally the heart, the idea of it made them self conscious of their own hearts, getting a weird sensation of pressure over their chests, cutting the veins and arteria cautiously one by one made their fingers numb as holding that vital muscle, the easiness of the scalpel was unbearable.</p><p>They removed all the organs that were blocking the abdominal aorta, piece by piece, Staford place them on a tray as were made of glass, finally get to the aorta, it looked like a hose with a plastic-like texture, flexible with little hardness, a good part of it was torn missing from the bullet rub but still conserved the tube shape extended vertically. Fiddleford was for the job.</p><p>The younger handled him the tubular dispositive they ingenied for that, that organic silicon-like thing made to seal that as a pipe, as a flesh pipe.</p><p>"Fiddleford, is the spine alright?"broke the silence a thicker voice with incertitude. He had read the papers but he was paranoid, he didn't want something out of view to sabotage all of this, this all was like walking on tightrope.</p><p>Fiddleford reviewed the zone, passing his fingers over that core bones, touching with the carefulness as it would crumble down any moment, nothing odd, well, nothing more than touching vertebrae of the corpse of his best friend`s secret twin.</p><p>"yeah, alright bud, nothin` to worry `bout", reassured to the young man with whiskey eye color who breath again after that, the bones were intact but the tension on the room stay still invading them.</p><p>They started repositioning every organ again based on pictures of other autopsies and the books descriptions, well, most of them...</p><p>Rewind time</p><p>They had managed to obtain replacement of a few organs, and by few it doesn't mean not important, all of that thanks to a couple of strange teenagers.</p><p>The father of the boy was sort of a local undertaker, The Valentino`s, the kid knew all of the family business as the palm of his hand, with unnerving joy.</p><p>Taking the risk, they chose to actually ask for them to the boy, Greg, was the name, who showed more than happy to lead the way accepting the offer they proposed. Kids these days are so creepy, even for their taste.</p><p>Who had ever thought a human heart, lungs and some other anatomical parts could only cost money to take a certain ginger girl on a date? Greg and Janice were made for each other in a twisted comical way.</p><p>Ending the storytelling, back on action.</p><p>Both of them were praying internally as they could in some way read each other's minds, that Stanley's body resisted all the out agents in him, the organs, their experiments, new fear unlocked, what if Stan body rejected all of that?</p><p>Step by step boys, step by step.</p><p>They checked on every single organ of the young man deceased, discarding all the damaged material, were they surpassing the limits? nah, they couldn't get lower than this, so, why no?</p><p>So, they discarded all the damaged parts, not only for the sudden death, but the lifestyle he had, they get rid of part of the liver, and they hadnt only taked out the punctured lung but the two of them for the goddamned habit of smoking that, without any doubt, would had killed anyway in a few years, if he hasn't taken his life first.</p><p>They sutured all silently and placed a structure designed for both of them around the ribs, Stanley wouldn't cicatrize, of course.</p><p>The only part of that surgery they actually exchanged words were the spine issue and for asking for operating instruments, The surgeries, in plural, Oh Dear, there were like five, were amazingly fast, they swore the corpse had not even defrost when they were returning him into cryo.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>"You're exaggerating, Fidds, it'll be alright", replied getting everytime more exasperated</p><p>"ya sure `bout that? `coz the last time I checked an angular jerk tried to kill me, ya know, beside the other thing...", snapped back the skinny man with a dubious frown.</p><p>"not again..." rolled his caramel eyes, tired of the same argument all over again.</p><p>"what do ya mean with "not again"??? I should be tha one sayin`that, Stan", it was weird from the older man to be defensive on a discussion.</p><p>Oh no, there it goes again...</p><p>All is not yet rosy either, for now Fiddleford and Stanford relationship seemed without problem, but that wasn't all truth.</p><p>What kind of friendship hadn't been through ups and downs?</p><p>The work was somewhat...divided, ideologies war here.</p><p>Fidds were more paranoid about all the magic things, the much he could evade it, the better; biology was all, they could do all of this with only science, knowledge and strategy, like old time before his partner got seduced by all the mysteries caughted in Gravity Falls, without mentioning some conflict with a triangle shaped demon. On the other hand, Stanford was still sinked in all that cryptid and mistic world, in search of alternatives to grew his info dominance about the things we don't see, the specific thing in mind of the polydactyl right now was a spell, there must be something capable of reverse his brother brain death. All started with passive aggressive suggerences, disagreements to argue that at the end no one knew what they were fighting of in first place, just contradicting each other's methods, that turned into shouting to each other adding caffeine and stress.</p><p>Thank God it only took short for them to find out that they needed to cut the crap and work as a team again, gladly they chose that, otherwise it would had ended physical, good thing too was that both of them were now too haggard for that.</p><p>Part of amend their friendship was that the taller man eventually moved in again, so they weren't only handling all the business of the "Frankenstein-thingy", plus was get to make that shack actually habitable, put everything in the respective place, throw things away, clean all the rests of Stanford`s storming, lock under key dangerous things specially if the unaware young man was supposed to live with them from now on, well when they bring him back alive.</p><p>Fill up the fridge, organize all the unmeasurable books in the bookcase, get rid of all the empty nests in the attic that could turn in focus of diseases, among other tasks.</p><p>They had decided a new arrangement of the bedrooms, Ford`s room was now Fidds, so the two science men disposed to empty the attic making it a livable place with two beds side to side, a desk between them with a lamp, under a triangular window.</p><p>The triangular window, it sometimes triggered Stanford`s anxiety, especially when the full moon peeked, a gigant eye that opened space inside his house, as it was trying to get in through the light. He thought about a curtain, but rejected the idea as soon it showed, ashamed.</p><p>Bill was gone, what was he afraid of?</p><p>Bill wasn't the type to keep things to himself, work silently, he was all minus that; Tho it wasn't any less suspect.</p><p>The one eyed demon had drilled his head all the time he had spent dismantling the portal, cursing him, giving him sharp migraines, possessing him briefly to sabotage him, without mentioning all the self inflicted wounds under his control.</p><p>He was glad Fiddleford wasn't there during that time and being strong enough to fight it, to avoid Bill from reaching his brother.</p><p>There were times, of course, when he almost lost it, when he barely managed to regain his own body scarce of damage Stanley, that sickened him, even knowing his twin wasn't alive, for now.</p><p>He could help but flinch in the face of such positions, it was pathetic how he sobbed between apologies, tears mixing up with blood from his right eye.</p><p>The day when the polydactyl disarmed the last piece of that hell's gate, the whole world stopped, the drilling in his head died, the voice of the yellow being that lobotize him disappeared, it was like he was erased from the earth`s face.</p><p>In first place, he didn't noticed when that nightmare had get to enter to his house again, he must`ve moved or broke the seal of protection in some way, he knew it was urgent to take care of that fissure, procrastinating, he kept that on mind but under other, a priority buried in himself right now, it was like the feeling of leaving the faucet open, but he couldn't focus right now, he crossed his heart and hoped to die, but as wrote before, Fiddleford wouldn't let him get to such thing.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>The machine was complete, accomplished by this pair of scientists afficionated of scratch all moral limits, the body had been patched up again, all organs in their respective places, the experimental prosthetics invented by them, the harder to apply for much were the sternum, the original was definitely shattered by the autopsy, and other incident...</p><p>Stanley was now unfreezed, connected to an engine designed by the engineer to bomb all the new B positive blood they had stolen from the village hospital, as soon as the process ended they could begin with the plan of the Lazarus thing...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you like it!!!!! sorry it took me long, its just, this chapter is so long that I had to cut it in 2 parts</p><p>Fire on Fire- Sam Smith</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Fire on Fire Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"When we fight, we fight like lions<br/>But then we love and feel the truth<br/>We lose our minds in a city of roses<br/>We won't abide by any rules.<br/>I don't say a word<br/>But still, you take my breath and steal the things I know<br/>There you go, saving me from out of the cold.<br/>Fire on fire would normally kill us<br/>But this much desire, together, we're winners<br/>They say that we're out of control and some say we're sinners<br/>But don't let them ruin our beautiful rhythms<br/>'Cause when you unfold me and tell me you love me<br/>And look in my eye<br/>You are perfection, my only direction<br/>It's fire on fire..."<br/>Fire on Fire- Sam Smith</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Just let's take a second, how were they so sure of doing this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Actually, Stanley wouldn't be their first living dead, if they managed to do it right, of course, their test subject was a roadkill, no one they had committed, no, Fidds would rather die himself before killing an innocent animal even the smallest one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a raccoon that now hovered around the lab, he was still recovering, but no one would guess he was dead before, well maybe a little "trashed", oh what a bad pun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hoary had named him "Oscar", not with a real meaning, just a bad pun again caused by the big scar forming in the vermin torso, Oh scar!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To sum it, after reconstruing the smashed being they used the machine on him, but with lower frequency.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanford, by his side, after arduous searches, got the perfect spell to reverse all the brain damage, in fact, that was what it was, a spell of damage reversion, the problem, there were always at least one in this things, was that it could be used only one time and in a limited thing, the twin wanted one he could use it to revert all the damage but for the circumstances his hands were tied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Definitely the spell must be used for the brain, there was no other way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oscar was bringed back to life as Mary Shelley's novel, electricity based, sided by those Watson and Crick models of the spark of life. All theories, they knew, but  what else they had?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The animal was so butchered when they found it, almost shredded, definitely worse than a shot, no meaning less painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The furry ball didn't get up at first, it woke up until almost dawning the following day, his vital signs were first erratic but the time normalized them. They even bring the hairy thing to the town`s Vet, who although saw the mammal in sort of deplorable state, never suspected it was dead before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was so unbelievable, it was all real?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both were so traumatized that feared this was all an illusion, how could they not be after some moments of terror? moment seemed like the wrong word...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Flash back</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"we are done", murmured Stanford collapsing to the floor aside his best friend, who only nodded with closed eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rum haired man took off his glasses pinching the bridge of his rossy nose, he was deadly tired, he had lost the track of the hours, he didn't notice when he had closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no, he gazed with fuzziness to the blond, profund breaths, his chest rising and falling peacefully, asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paced his hand around him, where were his glasses? crap, crap, crap...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt the thin structure of the frame and with a lightning speed placed in his face, he had a sharp headache,the type with acute locatable pain, in his case the right temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With an awkward step he stumbled on his feet and rushed to his brother's side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Horror traced all over his face, shock. The panorama was worthy of a hell peek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the table was Stanley pale as the dead he was, covered in blood, the blood they had just inserted in him, all the crimson escaping from his chest, so slightly in waterfall, traveling the legs of the metal stretcher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanford wanted to die right there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"FIDDLEFORD!!", he screamed from the top of his lungs on the verge of tears, the older man woke up compulsory for the sudden shout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"S-Stanferd, wha`s wrong?", asked frightened now free from any slumber.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanford gave him a glimpse he would never forget, pure horror in those eyes, he ran to his partner's side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Quick!! help me!!", shouted Fiddleford handling the body as the other stood there, in shock...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>End of Flash back</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stanley sufferent an internal bleeding for bad sealing of the aorta, which they could repair only, basically, doing all over again, this mishap was the one that lead them into destroying the original breastbone replacement making the new one a hell to set, they had to wash all the organs with tidy carefulness, the less they needed now was that the corpse started to rot. They stole the blood all over again even origining a new lore of a vampire in town.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had risked it all, it's true, but it is not compared with the triumph they were about to achieve, and not sincerely for science.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanley`s circulatory system was stable, even if his heart didn't beated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time has come</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hoary buckled up the wrists and ankles at the sides of the diseased young man, not because they were scared of him or such things, different from the monster idea, it was for protecting him in case his first movements were abrupt that could hurt himself, that's why they put a belt around his waist too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exposed, completely naked, both had agreed leaving Stanley like that because they couldn't afford an easy combustion in case a spark made contact with his clothes. Stanford placed the patches on his chest as they were going to defibrillate him, with a patch under the height of his left armpit, the other under his right collarbone almost touching the suture extended on his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They placed a leather gag so he couldn't bite his tongue or harm any other teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On his head, his brother placed that instrument of crown shape which they would pass the electricity through when they connected it with the pliers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blue eyed set the oxygen tank with a mask for the first breath, at the same time of preparing the heart monitor, intravenous serum, all of that had to be done in a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both armed with gloves and non-conducting boots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hazelnut haired took the pliers and hooked the crown that named his brother the prince of the undead, not literally, but that halo gave him a peaceful image, like he was really resting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With delicateness he combed his brother's hair back and placed a kiss on his forehead, with closed eyed he sealed his oath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He separates now to give the sign to the southern man to start their invention, the blond nodded and in a cliche way, he turned down a lever, the energy traveled Stanley making him arc his back even tied to the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The polydactyl made a stop signal showing his palm to his best friend , he did as told turning the lever up waiting for a reaction now, all eyes to the brown haired who ran to put on the stethoscope from around his neck to take the signs of the phantasmagoric one over the cold table, extreme cautious. Nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned away again and indicate the engineer to activate the device, other charge shook the young man, sparks flied away, his twin saw him squirm his muscled as answer of the electrical stimulus, tensing in visible painful way, his brother wince at the sight but ask the contrary to level up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thunderous roar of the electricity flooded the cave with echo, Stanford didn't wanted to witness that torture anymore, he had plenty knowledge it wasnt a to torture but it seemed to, he even almost jumped the hoary to stop all of this, with a black hole in his stomach he stood there, he had to, pay attention to every detail, but instead he closed his eyes briefly, a break of that surreal picture in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A dessesperated breath taking, sounded like almost choking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flew his eyes open to turn to Fidds fearing seeking for an accident, only finding in its place confused saphire eyes, as soon as their pupils met he turned to the metalic table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stanley</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Impulsively he went to him like a tiger to his prey throat, the taller thunderstruck barely made it to turn off the machine, his heart was now in a thousand rate, Stanford had acted out of his mind, without thinking at all, that could had ended catastrophic, most for Stanford`s sake, he would had died without any doubt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiddleford was getting everytime more fed up of this nearly dead experiences, they were so overwhelming, he couldn't take this anymore by fear of one days it could become true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He released the machine storming by the hazelnut haired side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"STANFERD, HAD YA LOST YER FACKIN` MIND!!!!", shouted a red faced blond running to the oxygen tank with him. He didn't answer him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On a lapsus brutus, Ford totally forgot he had the stethoscope and without any more, he placed his head on Stanley`s chest searching for any beat, closing his eyes, he wasn't the religious type but he was actually praying for some sign as his eyes wetted up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Resignated, he was about to move away, he felt a stir, similar to the beginning of a hiccup in the body under him, that shook him up to put his ear again over that heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> A fast pounding was from inside that being, to that a laborious breathing summed, almost sounding like Stan`s car when turned on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watching all of the events, the tallest open a gap between them to put away fastly all the artifacts on the unconscious young man's head, unleashing the gag to ease his breathing and placing over his nose and mouth the oxygen mask, watching it dim slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hated to ruin the moment but, he needed Stanford right now, he had to lead him out of his trance, Stanley needed both of them now, sure he was shocked too but they didn't have time for that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stanferd, S-Stanferd, the stethoscope!", Indicate the older now connecting the IV in the arm of the long haired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The polydactyl received a strike of reality, he straightened up to put on the stethoscope again, moving the cold metal end of the instrument in the extension of the erratic moving chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"toilsome breathing, ta-tachycardia", added with a broken voice the twin, he couldn't believe it, they did it, Stanley was alive, he was listening to his heart right now, tears of joy made his cheeks highways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young man was still unconscious, thing that was relatively normal given the situation, Fiddleford took from his pocket a small lantern in his right hand and with the left one he raised one of the eyelids of his best friend`s clone, lightening the caramel iris in search of a reaction of the pupil that was now dilated, notwithstanding, it didn't showed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shiver went down the hoary`s spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stanferd, he`s blinded"...</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoy it!!!! part 2!!!</p><p>Fire on Fire-Sam Smith</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoyed!!! ✨ </p><p>Song:<br/>If I die young-Michael Henry &amp; Justin Robinett</p></blockquote></div></div>
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